you're a fraud, and you know it
by vagabondsolace
Summary: They don't understand, not completely anyway, but the conviction in his voice makes them believe that it must be true./ or, they'll come back together, eventually. Beck


**disclaimer:** I do not own _Victorious_.**  
summary:** They don't understand, not completely anyway, but the conviction in his voice makes them believe that it must be true./ or, they'll come back together, eventually.  
**a/n: **I want my Bade back on my television -_-" Until then, here's hoping this tides you over. No real plot and it doesn't have the greatest of endings I suppose but, then again, what else is new with me? Reviews are always appreciated.

–

_you're a fraud, and you know it_

–

They go the beach, once.

It happens on some random, nondescript day in the summer and it's nothing special in that traffic is still terrible, the birds still shit on everything, and he's still Beck and she's still Jade. He practically has to drag Jade out but she comes, in the end, wearing the most sinful, simple black bikini God every blessed onto the Earth. He buys her ice cream _(coffee-flavored, her favorite)_, forces her to build a sand castle with him, and lays with her atop of his truck while listening to music.

It's not until they're sitting in the sand, toes curled, right where waves hit the shore when Jade says,

"It's stupid, you know? How the waves kiss the shore every single day, hoping to stay – but they never can, never will. Why fucking bother –"

He kisses her then. Hard, passionate, promising. When he breaks it off, it's the first time he sees Jade look surprised, but happy. And Beck – Beck feels something surround him, just like a waterfall almost, and he isn't sure what the feeling is but he knows that with it comes an overwhelming sense of joy. "It's because they love each other. It won't give up."

They kiss again; but, this time, it's Jade who pulls him in.

**–**

Beck knows what people say about him behind his back. That he's a robot – or, _Beckbot_, as they so affectionately call him. An empty droid; a person who feels and acts on nothing more than carefully programmed lines and motions.

Beck knows that they're, more likely than not, correct.

And his response to this slightly irksome and derogatory term to describe him is simple, just like everything else he decided upon being in his little world. Emotions and humanity are a person's greatest weakness, he disciplines himself to believe. They are the catalyst, the defining attribute to any failure you may experience. Beck knows he must always just continue on and endure because if he so much as stops to look back, he won't make it out alive. And he muses to himself that that's probably why people often say they can't afford to feel anything, because if they did it would probably crush their very being and they would just choke in-between their words.

And it's not until he comes across bright blue eyes contrasting against pale skin when he's nothing but an insignificantly average 15-year-old boy that he starts to slip and allows himself to be human – if not only for a moment.

**–**

When they break up, Beck finds himself in an odd, awkward place. He wants to call her, tell her he's sorry, that he should have just opened that goddamn door – but he doesn't. Because he doesn't know exactly how to word it, how to make things right. And really, that was the problem within what should be a rather simple solution. Because he knows what he wants for once. He wants to lace his fingers between hers and whisper words he should have said a long time ago – he wanted to _feel_ something. To prove to her and, more importantly himself, that he was capable, that it was possible. Instead, he sees her walking through the halls like a burst of color in his black and white vision and all he can say is,

"Hey."

Jade doesn't even miss a beat in her stride, doesn't even bother to look his way. "Yeah. Hey."  
And even if Beck hates that she walks away, he still loves to watch her leave.

–

Jade is strong. But that doesn't mean she isn't chased by demons.

She fears she'll never be good enough. And she's right in that yes, she should be afraid. Because the world is cruel and unfair and ruthless, Jade knows this. It will take you for what you are one second and spit you back out the next. And so she doesn't think, just acts. She runs, as far and as fast as her slim legs can take her – but only because she can and that's what people who aren't good enough are supposed to do. They search for something, though they aren't quite sure what, to make up for their inadequacies; something that'll make them whole. All she wants is to be loved. And she wears her heart on her sleeve, giving it to a boy with tan skin and chocolate eyes like it's a big deal, only to have him crush it with his rough hands. Breaks her down, just like she knew the world would.

Jade is damaged, and that's what makes her so fearsome and dangerous –  
She already knows she can survive.

–

When he tries to lean in to kiss Tori, he isn't really sure why.

He feels like his brain and his heart are broken up into several fractional pieces, each giving a different, yet somewhat appropriate and reasonable response: Because he wants to. Because Tori was sugar, spice, and everything nice. Because Tori is who he should be with according to the laws of naïve adolescence. Because he wants to spite Jade. Because he misses Jade. Because he was still in love with Jade. _Jade, Jade, Jade._

But, most importantly, and probably the biggest fractioned piece of them all: Because he wanted to feel something, anything really, again. Anger, guilt, pity, shame, love – Beck wanted to feel it all; all at once, overwhelmingly and irrevocably, even if it consumed his very being.

And he's almost glad Tori's mom walks through the door at precisely_ thatsecond _the first time and he's almost glad Tori stops him at exactly _thatsecond_ the second time around because even if he wants to feel that escape into humanity again so desperately – it wouldn't be right.

It wouldn't be with Jade.

–

Jade doesn't understand it, can't grasp onto it - not even the tattered, worn-out edges that beg for her attention. Because from the moment her and Beck even truly begin their twisted dance, she sees how he looks at her, like she's some wonderful being. ___Like sunshine fading on your sheets_, Jade knows that Beck sees her as this warmth. As this _something_ – something he can't describe and she can't quite place.

Jade doesn't see it.

She doesn't see why this is the picture painted behind his eyelids. But it makes her want to be better, she hopes he knows. It makes Jade honestly believe that she can turn herself around – even after all this time. And she won't be a cliché and full of shit in saying that she doesn't deserve to feel that way, because she knows she does. But she is also not jaded enough to feign ignorance in that she doesn't know how to accept such sentiments and, as such, she cripples Beck's outstretched fingers with her stoic silence.

Jade hates when Beck says that he knows her, that he'll accept her, that his view of who she is won't ever change. And it's not that she's calling him on his shit or that he's a liar, because she knows, behind all of it, he's as sincere as a little kid on Christmas morning. But, at the same time, she wonders – _How much of me do you really know, Beckett Dorian Oliver? _The answer is simple: only the parts of her she lets him see. That she lets be vulnerable to him. But what about the other side? The darker one, the fucked-up remains of a person filled with ambiguous loss. Jade knows Beck has yet to see that side of her; to know, to understand. And who's to say that he won't run then, that his view of her won't change.

Beck makes Jade believe she can be better. But, in doing so, she knows that also means telling him the truth. To really let him in and see all the pieces and parts that make up who she is. And – _surprise! surprise! _– Jade isn't sure she knows how to do that. She feels herself choke between each and every one of her words because they burn her throat and slip into this space where her lungs should be and she finds herself unable to breathe. _Anorexic. Abused. Suicidal. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not talented enough – not enough. _So many, too many; how do you say those things out loud without letting yourself fall completely apart? Jade doesn't know. And she also doesn't think there's a suitable answer for it either that would properly do it justice. Because when you're really serious about things that far down the spectrum, you can't bear to acknowledge it, let alone admit it aloud.

Jade cares about Beck, she knows this to be true. Loves him, even, before she's even sure she knows him in all his entirety as well. And, as such, she wants to give him the option. To know her, to _really_ know her and decide for himself because Jade knows it's not fair for Beck to see her as such a bright, shining light when she's anything but.

She wants to give him an out, so that he needn't look too far if ever he desires for one.  
She feels her heart shatter when, one day, he takes it, and doesn't bother to open the door.

–

He cleans out his RV, finds pictures of them together – the rare ones' that no else can see. They're torn up and bent and faded in color, but they're still smiling _(as big of a smile someone like Jade can possibly muster, anyway) _and Beck can't bring himself to burn them. He tests himself, the inner-workings of his mind telling him to throw them away, to close himself off. But, instead, he tucks them away inside the Bible his mom makes him keep by his bed.

Beck may not talk about religion – like _ever, _really; but that doesn't mean he doesn't believe in it. Just like how he'll always believe in Jade. And maybe, someday, things will turn around. That they'll be given another chance.

He doesn't know it, but Jade prays for the same things he does at night, too.

–

When they ask him what he sees in Jade, Beck isn't exactly sure how to answer.  
And so he sums it up in the only way he knows how –

"She's like a star that fell to Earth."

They don't understand, not completely anyway, but the conviction in his voice makes them believe that it must be true.

–

_fin._


End file.
